Afar, Arose
by Jordan Marius Wright
Summary: Henry was not ever destined to find love due to brutish bloodlust and emotionary lack. Ricken never thought he'd mature. However, the two slowly connect and find someone to smile with as the blood runs down their cheeks in this war and their young hearts stop beating. Warnings of angst, depressing concepts, limb loss, acute swearing, coma, and very possible smut


**(Ah, Henricken. This couple has made me so happy recently and spawned me the idea of doing a Henry cosplay. And if you haven't read asotmm (another fanfic of mine) you can guess this will get extremely depressing. Tears may happen, you may want to suddenly murder me, but it is my writing plot style.**

_**Also just a huge plot note: Henry and Ricken do not have official FEA ages. Henry is just called "young" and Ricken is called "Child-like". In my story I have decided on a two-year gap, with Henry being older. Also the planet has our Earth months (based on the roster birthdays) So don't freak out when I say "October" or something.**_****

**Future warnings: Angst, some very small swearing, isolationary themes, and some sad concepts. )**

Henry.

Forever deemed an outcast by a family of necromancers who could care less. Sneers came up whenever he dare blinked. He was a rather broken child.

You see, in his family, you weren't exactly supposed to be quiet and hardly speak your mind. And being abandoned in dark hallways, left to touch poisoned knives and spellbooks that burned you when you opened them, served as a slight punishment. Every item he touched would suddenly become a weapon and hurt him. That was what his parents wanted to turn Henry into, however. A human weapon that could endure the greatest fights and kill a human faster than a drop of rain hitting battle terrain. This family was often loud, murderous, and the most sickening mage family in the continent.

Henry's abuse did forever break him, however.

His father would laugh as he jabbed his son with a knife again and again in his arms and legs, and only cut more if he dare cried or screamed. He'd test spells on the boy, from Elfires to Fluxes, each one going through Henry's fragile body as easily as an arrow into an apple. Mother would try sending him to top-notch schools or test her newest poisons. After years, Henry's intestines were burnt and corroded, his skin burnt on several occasions. The worst part was seeing this wide-eyed boy unable to open his eyes easily because he squinted so much through blood splattering on his face and fire burning his eyelashes off.

When Henry was born, you see, he started out as this beautiful little baby with light grey eyes and white fluffy hair who was very quiet and didn't cry as he came into the world. By the time he was eight, his eyes had wrinkles under them, his body so used to pain it grew stiff, and his robe resewn so many times from his father and mother's "experiments" that it didn't look like a clothing piece anymore and just ruddy fabric draped over bony shoulders.

What did hurt was when his parents finally gave up on him, and left him to isolation in a local forest. The only object he was given, was a flimsy spellbook for a fire spell. There were no other necessities given. Not even a change of undergarments or a stuffed animal (yet none existed in their stony house)

He did cry out, and for a very long time. Never once had his parents been loving. Never once did they hug him or kiss him or tell battle stories. Even one of them looking at him was considered the highest affection mustered. Normal parents would bring children out to get sweets and treacle. They'd play in the snow and bake pastries, allowing the little one to have little tastes. Henry heard of the castle and field children who got to play and use their imaginations. Those children were called "disgraces" by his parents. But Henry wished he could imagine something that wasn't a new family.

As he laid there in the forest, he soon took in the senses. A few bunnies came over to play with another and one even came to lay in his lap. His cut and worn fingers stroked the fur and he had never felt something so delightful in his life. Soon another hand joined to pet the creature. Soon a smile emerged on his face. Soon his eyes opened wide like they've been meant to. That was until a wolf came out, snarling and frothing at the mouth, gnashing sharp teeth. The Plegian boy whimpered and fumbled around with his book, trying to work the spell.

With no practice, he didn't know how to work through the parchment and instead coaxed the wolf.

"Woah, woah, you stay there, big guy." A soft, yet rebellious voice coaxed. Henry hardly spoke and this was one of those rare times. The wolf neared closer and closer before pouncing and attacking the boy, it's claws tearing through his fabric, reopening painful cuts and burns. He screamed in agony, squirming as his body wracked with pain. And his eyes darted to the spellbook next to him. He muttered the words he read and raised up his hand, amazed when fiery flickers shot the animal back into a boulder.

He did it!

And soon, he befriended this wolf, taming and domesticating it. He also made flower crowns for any animals that came his way.

But once a villager farmer had killed his wolf friend, he went on a rampage, killing the whole village. A sickened smile stretched across his face as he did so, echoing laughs emitting through the village as he burned civilians. Watching their flesh burn and tasting their blood on his tongue paid off for all those birthdays he missed. The children were so pathetic too, hiding in their bedroom as Henry burnt their cottages down.

And as the last groans were pushed from cold lips, and the villagers no longer drew breath, Henry was fully satisfied.

For once he felt complete, but his heart was still missing out on more.

He knew he was _going to love this_


End file.
